When I was a kid...

[labelleizzy]

When I was a kid, I wish I could have known that the degree of anxiety I suffered from everyday was not normal, and that there were ways to make that anxiety better. I remember saying something like, they're looking at me, why are they looking at me?

Looking back now I understand that I didn't really care *why* people were looking at me. The meta statement was: what they're doing makes me uncomfortable. With the implied request, Make it stop. (And the additional note: I feel ugly and unlovable, will you protect me, reassure me?)

If somebody could have understood the language I did not know yet how to speak, they might have heard my request and provided a lesson, to wit: "darling, it's okay. People look at people. You look at people? You don't need to worry about what they think of you. Any more than they worry about what you think of them. And if you think about it, I can no more make them stop looking at you, then you can make *me* stop looking at somebody else. That's not possible."

I guess what I really wanted was somebody to reassure me that the world wasn't judging me for being bad at whatever it was I was doing, humaning, because my anxiety made me feel constantly judged and found wanting.

And I mean hell, while I'm wishing my childhood had been different, in this one regard I'll go ahead and wish that it had been accepted and my dad had been able to get therapy and that My mom had been able to do what she really wanted to be able to do, and that both of them had learned about how to manage your stress with out drinking so much.

Comments

[cjsmith]

♥ Every time I think of whether or how I’d want my childhood to have been different, it ends up with me wishing my parents had had better lives.

[labelleizzy]

Yeahhhhh. If my parents lives. If my grandparents lives. They might have been happier, less angry, would maybe have had more spoons to love and raise their generation without having so much pain of their own to manage at the same time. It would have meant that much less pain handed down the family lines.
And less therapy work for me. :(

[cjsmith]

YES! This, exactly this. I trace it to grandparents on one side (a truly senseless tragedy there, creating a clammed up avoidant type full of self denial) and great grandparents on the other (another tragedy, this time very poorly handled, creating generations of bigotry, hatred, abuse, and resentment). The pain cascades forward through the years. My job is to stop as much of it as possible from rolling any farther.

Wishing you strength and support.

[labelleizzy]

"My job is to stop as much of it as possible from rolling any farther."
So well put! Thank you for that phrasing.

Strength and support to you also. 🧡🧡🧡

[tarasacon]

I hear you.

Irony: one of my parents was a licensed psychologist. One would hope they might have noticed. I have to remind myself that there was no model for childhood anxiety in the 70s. It was largely assumed not to exist. (Also, they didn't see me very often and I masked like crazy - I had already learned from the other parent that emotions aren't allowed. So no one knew that I lay awake in bed imagining horrible scenarios, over and over. And yeah, I was well grown before I realized that wasn't normal. :/

As an adult I got a great deal of help from my psychologist parent learning new ways to approach my anxiety and perfectionism. They also paid for me to see a therapist and get meds. So it's complicated.

[labelleizzy]

Complicated, for real...
But if they do better when they know better, I tend to cut them a little slack. Mom and I have had a few long conversations about all that. And I've been for therapy. Feels to me like the world damaged my family, and the world AND my family damaged me. And then I had to work to wake up, and to heal myself, and lucky I am to have had the time energy and resources to do that.
Mom and I are good, now.

[tarasacon]

<3

I'm glad you were able to heal with her.